Babylon 5, an alternate history.

The ship creaked and rattled loudly as it emerged from hyperspace, as if born anew from the warp gate. First Captain Gurok stuck his heavily booted foot on the squeaking bolt in front of his command chair. “Ertar’s Fire” his hairless butt, more like “Ertar’s Fizzle” …the First Captain was wise enough not to voice this opinion aloud due to the Margus’ political officers…who were ALWAYS around…ensuring his bidding, and his bidding alone, was done.

It was less than two full cycles now since the Grome Autocracy had discovered the remains of an ancient vessel buried deeply within one of their mountain ranges. This discovery had changed Grome society quickly, for the new Margus was a “progressive thinker”. He did not hold to the old customs of pride…only using that which was made by Grome hands. With this discovery the Grome technology jumped by centuries…even the Ertar’s Fire now had a weapon system unmatched by any other inferior species…too bad the rest of the ship did not match this grand weapon.

More important than the technological gains though was a recording…one that depicted, of all things, the most holy avatar of the gods. Margus Lotoru had announced this find was a confirmation of his ultimate, and divinely inspired, rule. And he immediately set the Ertar’s Fire on a mission to locate the “home of the gods”.

After stumbling upon two inferior species, Captain Gurok was sure he had discovered the Gods World... this was confirmed when the angel that appeared on the view screen, calling itself a Vorlon, welcomed the Grome into its loving embrace.

The commandments it gave to Captain Gurok would be guarded with his life…for they were meant only for Margus eyes. A new age had been born…the Margus was indeed inspired, and the Grome blessed as the sword of the Gods.

"Over the last year my race has struggled with expansion, the loss of two of our scouts certainly didn't help matters. We are glad to have an alliance with you and Earthforce, it gives us hope that we won't have to fight to the last to defend what little territory we have."

"We welcome your cooperation," the Vorlon ambassador said. "We may need your assistance soon." The monitor then blinked off as the transmission ended.

"So what's the latest news?" I turned to ask my exploration minister.

"As you know our first attempt through the black hole ended in dismal failure with the ship crippled and unsalvagable, eventually being destroyed in the attempt. However our second expedition met with much better results. But I'm afraid there is good news and bad. The good news is that the system is ripe for colonization, the bad news is that a race called the Brakiri has been encountered there. We don't know yet if they actually live there, but our hopes are not high at this point."

"Which would cut our frontiers to nothing. But it can't be helped I suppose."

"Excuse me sir," the colonies minister interrupted. "but what will we do about the Minbari situation? They have proven that our ships are no match for theirs and they are poised to strike at our homeworlds."

"Hmmph," I said with a smirk. "Ask the R&D minister about that. He doesn't seem worried."

I then walked over to a window to the courtyard below where one of my other minsters waited. "He just showed up out of the blue? We have no idea where he came from? Or how he got here?"

"That is correct sire," He said with a pensive stare.

"Well see what you can find out about these Centauri. I want to know more than the nothing we know now."

"Well sir, there is good news and bad news," the exploration minister said. "The good news is that it appears we might have a chance of seizing that solar system."

"And the bad news?"

"The upgrades you requested proved far more expensive than we'd anticipated."

"So what else can go wrong?" I said.

"We have still failed to learn anything of these Centauri."

"Oh. That can go wrong...."

Suspicion confirmed - Shepherds are still here... Contact established - still no information from them... Information acquired indirectly - great surprise, they are at a similar technological level as we are after the destruction of our data-planets... Conclusion - they have no means as to attack us directly... Question - is it possible that they are victims of the same force we are?... Evaluation - probability negligible they are this force... Prediction - they could still be dangerous in the future... Realization - if Shepherds are still here it is almost sure Wolves are present, too... Solution - it is necessery to gather information peacefully, if possible... Motion - younglings should know we have nothing against them interacting peacefully with others... Consensus achieved - the Path found and followed...

Our Path leads us.

News of the Three States

Captain Moras Vendris, more precisiely Exaltus Vendris, of house Vendris, Captain of the Imperial ship Durana's Pride,of the Gold Fleet, was bored. He had thought the monotonous balls during the social season back on Homeworld were boring, but they were nothing compared to the endless hours of nothing he was forced to endure sitting on his ship here on the edges of Cenaturi space. Along with the rest of the nobility he had supported the Centaurum's plan to expand the Republic, a new program of building and exploration that would return the possesions of the Old Republic back to their rightful rulers, which of course was the Centauri. Moras knew of course that the natives on those worlds that had managed, he couldn't imagine how, to drive off the Centauri in the past would argue against the Centauri's claims of ownership. Really though a bunch of primitive races that hadn't looked beyond the planets they grew up on until the Cenaturi offerred their wisdom couldn't be expected to know how to manage their affairs. The failure of the previously subject races to admit just how much the Centauri had improved them was a point of confusion not only for Moras but for all the Old Guard of the Nobility. Moras mission had been to expand outwards, discover lost planets and ensure their return. Almost as soon as his ship began it's mission it had encountered a race called the Brakiri. Their level of development was surprising, not close to the excellence of the Centauri naturally but still a cause for concern. They were perilously close to Centauri space and so Moras ordered the mining of the acces point between the two realms. The Brakiri had seemingly failed to learn as one after the other they spent their ships trying to pass into Centauri space. Moras, following orders, had sat back, defended by the minefield, and waited. Then waited more. Meanwhile elsewhere reports came of encounters with other races. Even Moras knew of the Minbari, a race that if possible could be greater than the Cenaturi, but this other race, these Walkers, well Moras was no scholar but he would have expected if their claims of being an Ancient race was true than he would have heard of them before. He hadn't, still someone was certainly willing to listen to them. Last he heard there was talk of an alliance of some sort between these Walkers, the Minbari, and the Centauri. He had even heard rumours from his sources on Homeworld that the Brakiri were being offerred membership in this alliance. The Status of the members was of some concern. Who exactly was in charge? The Centauri naturally should lead, but shockingly enough this didn't seem to be the idea. Who else was fit to take control? What race, apart from the Cenaturi, could possibly have the power, history, and more importantly quality and culture to lead? Moras wasn't sure he liked the apparent answer.

Culdari Primus Reno Marisu walked down the corridor that lead to the bridge. Like all Cenaturi he hardly paid any attention to the fact that he could actually walk. Lesser races were forced to endure zero gravity, that is when their ships didn't provide the facade of gravity through the force of their engines, but Centauri science had solved the problem of artificial gravity centuries ago, so Reno walked into the bridge, studying a report as he went. Crew members saluted as he passed but although not born a noble he assumed the expectation of all officers which was that lower ranks were to pay tribute, even if he wasn't required to respond. This ship, as did many others, was returning from it's mission to expand the Republic. Being the executive officer of the ship he was privy to the reports from Homeworld of how those other ships had encountered other races. A race called the Brakiri was being held back in one sector, elsewhere an alliance was being formed with the Minbari and some race calling themselves Walkers. This ship, and he had heard others, had encountered a race called the Gaim. On this occasion there was no talk of an alliance, and if the Gaim weren't to be considered allies than there was only one other option. He might not be a noble, yet, but Reno had no trouble seeing what that was. All in all though things looked good. Being the second in command of the mission that made first contact with these Gaim was sure to bring him to the attention of the Centaurum, not to mention the Royal court. Reno had big plans for the future, and making the critical connections with the court such plans required wasn't going to do him any harm.

Consaris Lerat cursed all nobles. Bunch of self obsessed, narcisistic taskmasters the lot of them, he thought. Part of him admitted that he wouldn't mind being one of them of course, but that was just Centauri nature. His life had started just about as bad as things could start for a new born Centauri, what with being born a slave. Then things got worse. It seemed to him that as he grew up just about anything that could go wrong would. By now he had developed a very cynical and pessimistic attitude. Most Centauri could at least scheme and plan their way to the top, with only their own mistakes to blame, or the schemes and plans of others to counter. As a slave though Lerat was pretty much doomed to a life of drudgery and labour with little to look forward to. Sure good service might, possibly, gain him some notice and he might, possibly, be granted his freedom if he did anything noteworthy, but no one ever got noticed just because they could reliably shift boxes twelve hours a day. First off he had been part of that unfortuante one in five Centauri males born to slavery not to be granted commoner status offhand merely because he was indeed male. Then as he grew up his large physique doomed him to being a general labourer. That wouldn't have been so bad, maybe, good reliable labourers were a valuable possesion, but then the house he had been born into had collapsed. Lerat held no doubt it was due to the general mismanagement of the family that owned him. No, he couldn't even catch a bit of luck by having decent reliable owners. So he was bought up, along with the rest of the male labourers of the house, by some quartermaster for the local military base. It wasn't as if he had ever even wanted to be in the military. It was one of his few rights that he could have abandoned his life as a labourer by joining the Violet Sash slave units of the military, but he'd never been entirely desirous of being thrown into battles as an expendable weapon, equipped with sub standard equipment. From then on his life had consisted of being moved from one base to another. The Cenaturi military made little distinction between ground forces and fleet elements so eventually he'd found himself shifting cargo on a minelayer. Being just a cargo hand he wasn't privy to higher orders but he had picked up from the inevitable ship gossip that his ship was working alongside some race or other that it had enocuntered. At least something was going right. If the ship was going to work with these aliens at least he wasn't going to be expected to haul around mines any time soon. Not that his good fortune could last.

Marcus Cole sat in his office relaxing, it had been quite peaceful the last while and he was hoping to enjoy it. There was still work to be done, but not much.

"Excuse me sire," the defense minister interrupted, "You know it's only a matter of time before something goes wrong. Are you sure we're ready?"

"It should be enough, the R/D guys rigorously tested everything in simulations. It'd take a fleet twice the size of ours to be a serious problem."

"Here's that report sir," an attache said as he placed a data crystal on the desk.

"Gimme the short version."

"Your new orders have been carried out, everything is going smoothly. Our results have been limited, but promising."

"Excellent, I'll read it later after my nap." Marcus Cole then settled into his chair/couch/cot for a nice relaxing nap.

Excuse me, "War Leader Romulus, we have another incident to report with the Mitoc and Earthforces." the assistant stated with annoyance in his voice.
"What is it now?!" he snarled.
"As you know many ships are being constructed that haven't been thoroughly tested and we have a colonizer that seemed to be having navigational issues." replied the assistant.
"Well, what has you so flushed?"
"A colonizer went through the warp point into Mitoc/EA space inadvertently." "Sir.....it was fully loaded with worker castes and their families." He gasped, "They were given no quarter and fired upon ruthlessly."
His facing turning red, "First, we encounter the Mitoc people and discover in their wreckage technology that is clearly Minbari in design. Secondly, we are accosted repeatedly with Intelligence sabotage. Thirdly, their EarthForce allies send armed ships into our space. Fourthly, not only do they fire on unarmed ships, but have amassed a large fleet on our border. I feel we are left with little recompense, but to deal with them as they have treated us."
With a stern look and a nod, "Yes sir, I understand."

The head of House Garen was unhappy and as he stood up in the Centaurum assembly he wass doing his very best to make that abundantly clear.
"Why are we allowing these aliens free reign in our space?" he demanded.
Veran Tull, sitting in the row of seats opposite, queried the Great Maker for strength under his breathe, before replying.
"They are our allies, Qunos" he answered.
Qunos Garen looked down on the partriarch of House Tull. The two houses were not allies. In fact their joint history was filled with intense effort by both sides to destroy the other House and grab their possesions, though of course this could describe the relationship between most Houses.
"Maybe, but why do we do nothing as they move in and grab planet after planet?. Planets which by all rights are ours by the very virtue that it is our space". The sentiment was one held by the vast majority of the Centaurum. Veran would be lying if he said it hadn't disturbed him a bit.
"It serves the Republic to have strong allies, and if that requires allowing our allies to have a few planets so they can develop, then we all need to make sacrifices." Veran continued "the Walkers do trade colonies in their space in return, and the benefits of allied technology are many."
Instead of calming Qunos Garen this seeemd to annoy him more. Leaning down he picked up a pile of data slates, which he proceeded to wave around in the air, narrowly missing hitting the honourable member sitting nearby.
"Maybe, but they have now started pleading for our colonies, despite the fact we leave selected planets alone so these Walkers can have them. I have here many reports, the Walkers are systematically spreading through the Republic grabbing planets with no regard for the fact we are already moving to colonise them. Ancient technology was detected on one planet and a vessel sent to explore. Instead the Walkers fly past and blatantly colonised it under our noses. Did they even keep it once they plundered the secrets buried there? No. Last we saw they gave it to the Minbari" Garen paused for a few seconds. "I'm sure we wouldn't class the Minbari with all the lesser races, but the Walkers are also handing over planets, planets in Cenaturi space, to the Brakiri. The Brakiri!. Several of our colony ships were unable to colonise planets in our space because some obscure section of our treaty with them doesn't allow us to colonise systems they have already colonised. You'd think it would work in return, but yet again the treaty says nothing about planets in our already colonised systems just being handed over to them. It's preposterous."
Tull had to admit there was something to be said for the facts presented. Of course the Republic could have made more of an effort to colonise uninhabited planets in the Republic, except of course that would be undermining their allies. Or it would have been if it wasn't for the fact that the planets undeniably belonged to the Republic, not even Tull would imagine conveniently forgetting it. The problem was the Gaim. Tull sat on various sub-committes and so had access to knowledge on their behaviour. The Gaim were very much the problem. Every month more and more reports came of Gaim ships blowing themselves up trying to cross the border, and running into the minefields the Republic habitually placed there. Tull also sat on the armed services financial committee so he was well aware of the cost in mines this caused. The Gaim even admitted in diplomatic exchanges that they were well aware they weren't welcome, but the telling thing was.....they kept doing it. The last transmission had contained a warning about the number of ships the Gaim had, which to someone like the head of a Centauri House was about as unsubtle a threat as a hammer blow to the head, and had certainly not endeared the Gaim to any Centauri whose duties required them to read it. The Republic certainly had its share of problems and they weren't helped by a race who didn't seem to get the message, and so at a time when the Republic should focus on inhabiting its space it was forced to divert resources, and ships, to prepare to deal with a recalcitrant race that seemed intent on painting itself as an immenint threat.
"What do you propose, Qunos?"
"We should start validating our claim to all our planets before they are grabbed by our erstwhile allies"
"That would involve dedicating our ship yards to building colony ships, and we can't afford it while we have the Gaim sitting on the border making threats"
"Ignore the Gaim. They can't break through our mines, no matter how much they try. If they do become a threat the Republic will crush them like we do all lesser races".
Tull realised that Garen was one of those people stuck in the past, reliving the glories of the Old Republic when it had only had to lift its arm to put fear in all the other races. That time was long gone though.
"As much as it pains me to say it Qunos" Tull said " We can't just go around making threats against all the lesser races even if we are better. The Republic has a long way to go before we claim what was once ours". Quros Garen's blunt reply was answer enough.
"Yes, I'm sure" Tull replied "anyway the Gaim's insistence of blowing up their own ships by entering our minefileds may appear self defeating but they do use up the mines when they do so, and anyhow they are now being surprisingly subtle. Instead of attacking us directly they are now trying to break into the Republic by moving through Brakiri space, and circumstances seem to dictate the Brakiri are our allies. I'm afraid we need to just do the best we can in the circumstances. I for one would suggest a bit more diplomacy, we are no longer in an age when we can get what we want by dropping a few asteroids on some rebellious planet, at least not yet"
The assembly continued but many new avenues were now placed on the agenda for discussion. The members of the Cenaturum might argue on many points but they all agreed that steps must be made towards ensuring the Republics rightful place as the dominant power in the area. After all the poor lesser races needed a guiding hand. It was a sort of charity really.

Lerat was, surprisingly, actually happy for once. This alliance the "oh so mighty" nobles had worked out had amazing benefits. Of course Lerat was only a slave, he had always been, so it sort of made sense that he hadn't figured it out himself, but at the same time he was Centauri, there was no denying that, and for once that had wonderful benefits. Lerat was a slave, but he was a Cenaturi slave. Up until recently that hadn't meant much, but that was because the Republic only had Cenaturi slaves, but one of the benefits of these treaties that had been figured out was that slaves were being traded between races, and if there was one thing that was considered lowlier then a Centauri slave it was an alien slave. A Centauri was after all intrinsically noble. Lerat hadn't had cause to consider it before but he had always been treated at least as a fellow Centauri being with the rights and rules of behaviour due him. Alien slaves however were scum. A lower form of life fit only to be worked to death until they had had the honour of giving up all they were capable for their Centauri masters. So one day, oh wonderous day, a couple of guards had walked into the cargo deck pushing along a group of dejected aliens. Lerat had been walking nearby weighed down by a heavy container, when the Scurata called him over.
"You, slave. Come here!" the Scurata had said. Lerat, taking the opportunity to put down the cargo, walked over. He'd at least get a few minutes of rest.
"Yes, Scurata" Lerat answered.
"I have here a bunch of alien slaves. Give them some work to do". Lerat had never seen aliens before, and was somewhat puzzled at what was expected.
"What sort of work?" he asked.
"Honestly. I don't give a damn" the Scurata said before turning and leading his troops out. Since that day, oh wonderous day, Lerat had not needed to lift a thing. He loved it.
By the simple virtue of being Centauri he was therefore in charge so now instead of spending the day in back breaking work he had his charges do it all. The Minbari ones didn't cause any trouble. As far as he could tell their kind also had a slave caste, although they called them workers, not that it made much difference. The Minbari workers just got on with their job, didn't complain, and made little fuss. The Brakiri however seemed to resent their new life, Lerat on occasion having to punish them. They complained a lot but Lerat, and the other supervisors, couldn't care less. When they discovered the Brakiri were naturally nocturnal it was great as now they could be expected to work all night as well. There was such an influx of foreign labour that the Centauri slaves actually did little now other than order the aliens about. There were even rumours the Centauri slaves would be freed. Lerat couldn't imagine what being a normal commoner would be like, but if it continued to involve just sitting at his new desk giving orders he'd be content.

Marcus Cole sat in his office pondering the news. The shadows that he had dreaded seemed to be little more than scared kittens, and their allies weren't much better. But they might make useful allies all the same. On the homefront, things were more grim. The allies of the Minbari had taken enourmous stretches of territory at a speed he hadn't thought possible. But.... they don't seem to have done much else.

"So are the new designs ready?"

"Yes they are," the R/D minister said. "With some more work we can refine them, but as-is they're quite capable."

"Good, begin immediate implementation."

"Yes sir," the production minister said.

Suspicion confirmed – Wolves are here, too... Contact established – bilateral information transfer achieved... Information acquired – they blame Vorlon genetic experiments for their current backward position and claim it happened during their recent period of sleep... Conclusion – their knowledge is apparently very limited or they hide it for some reason... Question – what kind of genetic experiments could lead to such massive results?... Evaluation – probability very high they, being so sure, know something more about it... Prediction – it is possible to acquire this knowledge peacefully in the future... Realization – the best way would be to observe as they interact with Shepherds... Solution – facilitating their interaction whenever possible... Motion – exchange of suitable colonies... Consensus achieved – the Path found and followed...

Our Path leads us.

The news of what had happened, seemingly all over the universe, was the main topic of discussion everywhere that Mitoc lived.

"Our theorists have an idea sir," the R/D minister said. "Although none of us has come up with a way of proving it, many beleive that our universe temporarily "bumped into" either another universe or maybe even a different time period. During the brief collision the two partially merged and didn't cleanly reseperate."

"That is profoundly disturbing, if that's what happened I shudder to think of what else could have been destroyed. The next question is: what do we do?"

"Much of our weapons were completely destroyed in the process," the defense minister said. "Our fleets are in disarray, we'll have to rebuild huge amounts of tech from scratch."

"Well, it seems we have no choice then, but to regroup."

Margus Lotoru looked over the military reports and then once again viewed the data crystal. The god, that called itself Kosh, was clear in the data stream…so were its words: “Your people have been selected as our Sword, you will be called upon to sacrifice all in our endeavors, but your eternal rewards shall be great. As a sign of our power a great cataclysm is coming. When your swords are turned into lambs for slaughter that is when your blood must flow freely in our defense.”

So this was it…his reports clarified what had once been a riddle: all the Grome military vessels in the fleet had been reduced to harmless lambs. The gifted Vorlon technology had just disappeared…the Gods could indeed give and take away as they pleased.

As the orders for retrofitting was given, Lotoru knew his people were headed towards great pain, sorrow, and death. But he would gladly sacrifice them all for his rightful place next to his Gods.

Loyalty above all else except honor.

Yeah, we're making a new one soon.